Tales of All

Depersonalization

Her mind had always been clouded; abuzz with memories and fantasies. But most commonly, dreams - or rather, they could be dubbed as nightmares. They didn't cause her much harm, but the images just kept crawling back into her mind, gnawing at her brain and disturbing her immensely. The strange thing was how they ended in the same way every time.

There she lay on the ground, sprawled out, limbs lying limp by her sides. A low grumble escaped her lips as she began to sit up and the sunlight pierced through her half lidded eyes. She attempted to stretch, but it only led to an ache in her back.

Why is it so sunny? It's usually dark in the -

Only now, after taking a good look at the sky, did she realize where she was. The skies were swirls of colour; blues, greens, pinks and purples - like the iridescence on bubbles bouncing off the thin surface of water. She felt a prickly texture beneath her fingers. Grass. Endless fields of lush, emerald grass spanned the horizon, dotted with bunches of yellow daisies, dandelions, red tulips and mauve pansies. A strange arrangement it was, the colours clashing with the calm hue of the skies. She stood up, mesmerized by the splendour of her surroundings.

How did she ended up in a vast field of greenery? She did not know, however she did not question it. She took it light heartedly, frolicking with blithe through the meadows.

She followed the floral path, admiring the blooms and wafting the sweet scent, until she noticed how the grass beneath her feet began to grow sparsely. Her eyes followed the trail of scattered patches, which gradually began to turn dark and grey, as though it had been burned in a fire. She pursued the path, before it stopped abruptly, right in front of a doorstep. She lifted her head which had been staring at the ground to now focus on what was in front of her.

A towering house, almost completely demolished by a raging flurry of flames, stood tall in her path. The wooden roof trusses barely clung onto the brick columns that supported them, many walls missing and others covered with ash, and the floor covered in mounds of rubble. She cautiously walked through the building, her fingers running along the charred walls lined with broken picture frames and peels of paint. She had explored most of the two story house, before she came across the bathroom with a broken porcelain throne. She briefly glanced at the mirror.

She halted to a stop, turning around slowly and facing the mirror. A scream of disbelief echoed through the empty room.

There before her in the mirror was her reflection. However, what she saw was not her tawny brown skin accompanied by tight ebony ringlets, nor did she gaze back at her own dark umber eyes. There before her, was an abomination of her true appearance. Her skin was the vilest shade of swamp green, clinging to the bones of her limbs, covered in bloody wounds and drying scabs. Her face sunk in; her eyes red all over and sinking into its sockets; her cheeks rising out strikingly; and her lips were but a thin line of skin that barely covered rows of jagged teeth. Hair? There was barely any, only strands of white that lay astray on her scalp. She looked like a withering corpse, all of its soul sucked out of it. Lanky fingers brushed against her face, trying to decipher what had made her so...so hideous.

She let out a cry, dropping her head in her hands. She couldn't look at herself, she was too blinding of a sight for eyes to set upon. She couldn't believe it. What could have turned her into this? Why did she look like so? She slowly looked up, the tears stinging her eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, before staring back at her own reflection to think about what was going on. But who was that behind her?

A looming shadowy figure clothed in black stood behind her, engulfed in flames. The fire danced and burned away its body slowly, ashes flying off with an invisible breeze. She felt it staring her down through the mirror, gazing straight through her eyes and into her soul. But, it didn't have any eyes. The figure's sockets were empty and black, though the stare it gave off said otherwise. She gasped, turning around to face the figure.